The Target
by giselle.elizabeth.masen
Summary: A fifteen year old from District One, Career Giselle Masen has volunteered as tribute for the 78th Annual Hunger Games. Little does she know, the Games are not as glamorous as they are made out to be and the odds may not be in her favor.


I walk down the long hall with its steel walls bare to emphasize its intensity. Along with my small smirk, I wear the gray and blue training uniform with a kind of shoe I have never even seen before; which is strange because I come from District One, the Luxury district. There is no one else in the hall with me, so the only thing I can here is the light tap of my shoes coming in contact with the spotless floor and the sound of my breathing. There is a dead end to the hall where you can only turn right, so I do. A few feet from the turn is another dead end marked by giant, sealed, Capitol-grade doors which hiss and slide open before I even plan to enter. My feet absently step in and I look around; not many other tributes are here yet. I look at their shoulders, seeing that 2, 3, 6, and 8 are all here. Their heads turn to me and take in that I am from 1. It's a little funny when their blank faces all turn worried and quickly look away. Everyone that is, except for the 2 tributes, who look happy to see me. I already have everyone's face memorized with their districts. I march in with a smile, excited and prepared to really be here. As a Career, I had prepared my whole life to win these Games, and I plan on doing so with style. I look at the Gauntlet and ropes course and smile. Where would I begin? Go big or go home; the Gauntlet. I walk over to the small line and observer the timid, or overly enthusiastic, tributes arrive from the line.

It's my turn, now, and it is obvious that the trainer thinks this will be a challenge for me. He obviously hasn't met me. I elegantly hop up onto the first level of the course and he begins swinging the club at my shins and ankles. I smile as I leap from level to level, giving a nice cherry-on-top hair flip when I finish the course without taking one deep breath. I can see I have everyone's eye now and I like that. I float across the room to the ropes course. Every year, it seems the Careers make this out to be an important station, so I guess I better show off in this one, too. And maybe someone from another Career district will like what they see and want to form an alliance. From the third step of the ladder, I jump and grab on to some of the rope. I hang there for a moment, not because I am not able to hold myself up, but because I need to scope out someone to get friendly with to make an alliance; anything to ensure a bit more time to my lifespan. I spot a boy who, though he looks like he would die in the initial bloodbath, is flying through the trap making station. I watch him as he awkwardly heads to a technological station and he is even better in that. I press my lips together, keeping his face in my memory for later.

I flip off the ropes and head over to the edible plants station; something I know is more important for me to work on than flipping and hopping around. I watch the other tributes from there, not really listening to what this trainer has to say. My hands absently turn pages of a big book, but my eyes are looking elsewhere. Most of the tributes are here now, and most of them are good. But I am better. I watch one girl, who I recall being named Adrie, as she nears the front of the line for the Gauntlet. Expecting a feeble attempt, I smirk. But when she completes it with only a small falter, I'm taken slightly back.

I make my rounds, trying to hit each station before I notice that there are only five other tributes in here. After a long period of training, I leave. Back down the same hallway, I walk to the elevator. I am not big on being friends with all of my competition, so I let the elevator fill, then press the 'up' button again, then lean against the wall. I sigh and turn my head down the hall, wondering if anyone will be joining me. Then I hear the hiss of the mechanical door to the Training Center and groan to myself. I recognize her. Her name is Lavender, from 4, I think. She has thick, dark brown hair that, now that she is being groomed, is glossy and pretty. Her skin is fair which makes her brown eyes pop. She has sharp features, but they are soft, as well. But not even she can look good in these training uniforms they put us in.

I stand up straight as to not look so lazy. The elevator dings and the door slides to the side. Quickly, I step in and press the 'door close' button that _everyone_ uses because whether they realize it or not, all the tributes hate awkward elevator rides with people they will have to kill in a matter of days. However, she reaches the elevator right before it begins to close and I'm stuck with one of those awkward rides. She smiles slightly at and steps in. I look at her.

"District?" I squint my eyes in a studious fashion and tilt my head slightly to the side. I know that, if I do end up wanting to add her to my nonexistent group of allies, I'll have to play nice. I smile slightly.

"Four." Her voice is kind of low, but light as she reaches in front of me to press the button to her floor.

I nod slightly and look her over again. "One," I proudly inform her even though she probably already figured that out by the blue number 1 on my shoulders. "Four is fishing, right?"

She nods and looks me over, making it obvious that she is checking me out for future need just as I was her. "Yes. And One is luxury?"

"You bet." My tone is friendly with a bit of a warm edge. I press the '1' and the doors begin to close, then I see a boy running for the elevator. Not holding back my groan, I press the 'door open' button and lean a bit obnoxiously against the glass and metal wall and the door slides right back open again. I exhale and notice that the boy does not look worth my while, then remember his face as he stumbles into the elevator. I begin asking the winded boy about himself immediately. "Where are you from?"

"…from…Five….power…," is all I can really make out through his heavy breathing. Good lord, he didn't even run far. I turn my head, interested and caring a little more now, I press the '5' button and take my hand off the button, allowing the doors to close.

"Power?" I ask. Hopefully he can work on his stamina a little. "How good are you?"

He shrugs. "It depends on what kind of _power_ you think I'm talking about," he grins, "I'm smart. Good with traps and psychological stuff."

"Well, I'm stronger in strength, as in fighting and lifting," Lavender bursts in out of nowhere and we kind of look at her. I understand her need to be the center of attention and to show off; it's the Career in her. Brody smiled at her. He seems too nice.

"That's nice," he begins, "Random, but nice."

Ding! The elevator stopped, finally, and the doors slide open.  
"Well, it looks like we've arrived at your floor, District One." He looks at me with that annoyingly happy smile again. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

"You'll find out." I explain in a rather icy, cocky tone. "It's District One to you, for now." I say over fiercely over my shoulder. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow!" I call as I make my exit, a hint of intimidation in my voice.

The last thing I hear of them is when Five says, "Rather cheery lass, isn't she?"


End file.
